Melting - Sean Ashcroft Page 0,61

made almost the same snort-sob sound Hayden had a minute ago and wrapped my arms around him before I could think better of it. If I wasn’t getting another chance for at least a week, I wanted a hug now.

“Take care of yourself,” I said, backing off, wiping tears away from my face with the back of my sleeve.

“I don’t have to,” Hayden said softly, unzipping his flight bag and holding it open for me to look inside.

Otto was right there, on the top, still holding his tiny firework.

“Otto’s in charge of taking care of me,” Hayden continued.

This time I really did laugh, and I remembered Marissa doing the same thing over the phone when Hayden had been calming her down.

His dad was wrong. Hayden was just like him. Warm, kind, wise and, despite appearances, charismatic. It was a quieter kind of charisma, but it was there.

He just didn’t have a lot of chances to show it.

“You’d better do a good job,” I said, pointing a finger at Otto. “Hayden means a lot to me.”

“You mean a lot to me, too,” Hayden said, pecking me on the nose before backing off as another boarding announcement sounded over our heads. “I’ll see you soon.”

I watched him until he disappeared in the crowd, frozen to the spot, and then headed for my truck again, sitting down in the driver’s seat to pull myself together.

I’d let go of his hand, and now he was floating away.

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

Mr. Fuckable: I have to turn off my phone now, but I just wanted to say

Mr. Fuckable: I love you

I could’ve cried all over again. I took a screenshot of the conversation, just in case I did delete the hookup app without thinking.

OverEasy: I love you, too

28

Hayden

There was no couch in my apartment.

I stared at the empty space for a long few moments, lost and confused, before I remembered that I’d told Aaron he could take it. That he could take whatever he wanted.

The coffee table was gone, too.

And the little dining table by the window.

He’d left the chairs, which was actually worse than taking them.

I stood staring at the empty space where my life had once been for a long, long time.

My phone vibrated.

Marissa: Welcome home!

I stared at that for a long time, too.

Home.

Was this home?

My half-empty apartment with only traffic noises to keep me company?

I managed to send a message back, thanking her and confirming that we’d meet up tomorrow, and moved to stand in the spot where the couch had been, lungs tight.

A moment later I was rushing to the tiny window in the kitchen, fumbling to get it open so I could breathe.

The first lungful of greasy night air, still warm from the heat of the day, didn’t help as much as I’d imagined it would. I’d been expecting lavender and grass and pool salt, the smell of peeling paint on old weatherboards.

I took a few moments to get myself under control before I messaged Dad and Wes to let them know I’d gotten here safe.

I was just overwhelmed. There was so much to do now that I was back.

I could handle it, I knew I could, it was just a lot. Especially after getting the chance to rest for a while.

I’d be fine.

I’d be fine.

Ultimately, it took two weeks for things to get back to what passed for normal at Pleasure. Omar was allowed to walk on his foot as pain allowed, and since he and I were approximately as bad as each other when it came to overworking, that meant Marissa had to hover over him and make him take breaks so he wouldn’t make it any worse.

The whole staff signed his cast for him, though, and he agreed that we’d keep it when it was cut off and get it framed.

I was lucky to have him, and Marissa.

Things could’ve been a lot worse.

I was exhausted, I felt like I’d aged twenty years, but I was pretty sure things could’ve been worse.

Even if the sight of a pizza Wes had ordered to be delivered to my apartment after I told him I was planning on having toast for dinner did make me tear up.

As soon as I’d tipped the delivery driver, my phone rang.

“Turn the TV on,” Wes said as soon as I answered it. “We’re having a dinner date.”

I laughed, dropping the pizza box on my new coffee table and throwing myself down on my new couch. I didn’t love either of them, but I’d needed